


Something You Might Regret

by WaterWych



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Broken Engagement, Depression, Drinking, Explicit Language, F/F, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Road Trips, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterWych/pseuds/WaterWych
Summary: Lapis is an awful driver.





	

               Lapis is an awful driver. Hands on the wheel, open-toed sandals barely hovering above the brake, she speeds down the highways at eighty miles per hour. Going _way too fast_ in a rental 2002 Ford Focus that has a torn leather interior and the lingering smell of curly fries. The previous drivers were slobs.

               She keeps the radio turned up, pounding trash Peridot does not know whether she despises or simply tolerates, and all four tinted windows rolled down. The hot wind lashing at her face; whipping the short strands of peroxide hair back into her narrowed eyes like a makeshift weapon.

               It’s only fifteen minutes into their trip when Peridot decides she has enough and forces her to pull over. Ordering they go to the nearest gas station to switch sides, buy junk, and gas up. There is no way she is letting her drive again when Lapis barely missed dodging a semi-truck during a lane change; blinkers nonexistent. It is exhilarating and frightening all at the same time.

               “You could have just said something.” The cobalt haired woman snaps as they pull into the closest gas pump, one that faces a sweaty man in a red polo running about his trashed Honda. Damage to the sides making it apparent he had gotten into some street race and lost.

               “Well, if you didn’t drive like shit, perhaps I would have been nice about it.” She retorts back after Lapis crookedly shuts off the ignition and throws her the car keys. Something she fumbles with in pale nail bitten hands out of horrible hand-eye coordination.

Peridot hears her muffled snorts from inside the car, and knows she is laughing at her. The flush that creeps up the back of her neck causes discomfort in the dark blazer wrapped around her narrow shoulders.

               “Asshole,” she mutters under breath as she heads towards the small station’s shop; one hand shoved deep into the pocket of a pair of torn blue jeans and the other playing absentmindedly with the pointed key.

               Peridot steps through the electronic doors that open with an annoying chime and is greeted by the scent of stale pizza and ground up coffee beans.

               The coolness is a relief in comparison to the oppressive southern coastal heat lurking outside.

 

.

 

               She wanders up and down the narrow aisles, making lists in her head about everything they do and do not require for the long trip ahead, and scarcely avoids the slow shopper with a basket of gas station food littered on the cement floor. It is easy enough to maneuver around them, and she squeezes past an overweight man to grab for a package of saltine crackers beside him.

               By the time she has completed her routine around the store, Peridot manages to snag a box of animal crackers; an assorted collection of ready-made sandwiches; packets of dark coffee; two large cans of a knockoff energy drink; a pair of horrifically tacky sunglasses; and a few bags of lightly salted potato chips.

               Piling it up on the counter, the cashier shoots her a strange look. One she stops to give back with an even nastier glare. “Stop staring,” her eyes narrow as she focuses on the nametag pinned to the front of his yellow t-shirt, “ _Keith_. God, you’re name’s damn ugly.” Peridot spits out, a mocking smirk threatening to tear at her thin, dry lips at the flustered expression claiming the man’s acne covered face.

               Keith lowers his shaggy haired head in defeat and starts to scan each and every object with an agonizingly slow speed. On purpose, and admittedly irritating. The small woman feels her patient eroding away with each passing second.

               “Can you speed up the process? I’ve got somewhere to be, and I think it’s about time you-“ Her rambling speech is interrupted by the sound of something heavy hitting the counter.

               “Sorry for the late additions, but can you ring this up as well?”

               “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Peridot refers to the case of cheap beer and pack of cigarettes on the greasy surface.

               “Stocking up, duh.” Her cerulean haired companion moves out of her line of sight to stoop for something near the floor, and returns with a crooked smirk plastered on her round face. “Oh, and this as well.” Two CDs and a packet of gum is slapped in front of the cashier.

               “And will all of this be cash or credit?”

               “Credit.”

               “Cash.”

               Peridot glares at Lapis’ cocky smile.

               “And who’s going to pay for it, smartass?”

               Her tall companion gives her an incredulous stare. “You are.”

 

.

 

               “I thought you told me you quit that shit.”

               “I did.” Lapis responds, trailing behind the smaller woman as the pair step out of the air conditioned store and are assaulted by the summer’s warm heat. “But I just never told you the truth.”

               “Figures.” Griping out quietly, she shoves a free hand into her pocket and yanks out the car keys; jamming it into the door with a quick flick of her wrist. “You were always one for lying.” The two plastic bags filled to the brim bristle against the backseat’s leather as she places them down and grabs for the case of beer Lapis had thought a good idea to purchase. It slides easily underneath the passenger seat.

               “Can you at least pump the gas while I get everything situated?” Peridot glances sideways at the cerulean eyed woman in the open-toed sandals and halter crop top, her lips narrowing into a thin line at the way she leans nonchalantly against the side of the Ford as if she does not own a care in the world.

               She tips the tacky sunglasses Peridot had bought further down the bridge of her nose and provides a shit-eating smirk. “Do I look like I give a crap? Get it yourself.” The smaller woman watches her lanky companion saunter away in pure frustration.

               It is these times that she regrets even coercing Lapis to come along with her on this stupid, shitty road trip, but at the same moment, figures it will do them good.

               They both needed it.

 

.

 

               _It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and downright_ awkward _to be standing in the apartment complex’s sharp, narrow hallway. Staring at the stained crimson carpet and desperately not trying to listen in on the commotion going on inside the room behind her. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what her roommate is doing, but by the pounding against the wall and the squeaking of distant bedsprings, Peridot knows they’re having sex. Loud, immoral sex that will probably wake up the whole complex in the next couple of hours._

_That is what she gets by living with an immodest girl, however._

_She leans against the wall, arms crossed over a hoodie clad chest, and simply takes in the scent of mildew and peeling wallpaper. Her lime green eyes dart around the corridor before landing on the door directly across from her position. A creak had caught her attention._

_From out behind it, a woman slips into the hall; strange cobalt hair disheveled around her face, and a pale sweater wrapped loosely around her bare shoulders. In the few years Peridot has lived in the apartment building, she has never spotted the odd female before._

_The woman gives her a cynical look, and she finally realizes that she was staring. It makes the situation even more awkward._

_“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s impolite to stare?” She catches a glimpse of cerulean eyes hidden beneath a sheaf of hair._

_“Well, didn’t yours say it was a bad idea to dye your hair blue?”_

_“Says the girl with the bleached hairdo.”_

_Peridot’s lip twitches in amused irritation. “Good eye, Miss…?”_

_“Lazuli.” Her voice is a soft hum compared to the banging of her roommate against the wall. “Lapis Lazuli, and yes, the joke has gotten quite old at this point.”_

_It’s uncomfortable, listening to the sounds once more, and she clears her drying throat to break the tense silence. “So, ah, why are you standing out here anyway?” The smaller woman gets the backhand of a choked out snort._

_“The same reason why you’re out here, blondie.” She doesn’t find the nickname in any way entertaining, and scowls at the idea._

_“You’ve got a way with language, Lazuli, but you better watch your tongue.” Peridot shoves her hands into her cargo short pockets and squints at the hickey on the other woman’s throat. “It’s going to be a long night.”_

And you’re going to make plenty of lies.

 

.

 

              

              “Lapis, if you don’t shut the trashy music off this second, I’m literally going to drive off the side of this cliff and drown us.” It’s a threat she seems to take seriously. Within a second, the CD is replaced by another – this one being much slower and downtrodden than the garbage they had originally been listening to – and Peridot finally relaxes. Her white knuckled grip on the steering wheel loose.

              “Killjoy.” Lapis hisses in her direction, aiming a rude gesture with her middle finger just as she captures a glimpse from her peripheral vision. A scowl settles on her thin lips.

_Spoiled brat._

              “Better than me causing our early demises.” Peridot throws in, her sunglass covered eyes flickering from the coastline to the wide open road before them. It’s already been two hours at the wheel, and she feels in need of a break despite the sinking feeling that they have barely made any progress. With no destination in mind, however, they could take as much time as they wanted.

              As long as the cash flow is sufficient.

             “What do you think about a quick break?” She tries to appease Lapis’ apparent foul mood with a gentle smile and a subliminal hint; knowing how much her companion loves the Atlantic Ocean with its sandy beaches and slightly uncomfortable waters.

             “I think it’s a good idea to shove it up your ass…”

             “What was that, Lapis?” Giving her the hint of a doubt, she watches as she crumples under the pressure.

             “I said it’s a good idea, jackass.” Her mouth draws up into a tight line, and Peridot wants to laugh at her defeat.

             She has, and always will be, a sucker for the sea.

 

.

 

               It’s cooler by the water; comfortably so. The woman with the peroxide hair ditches her ripped jeans for a pair of cargo shorts and sits in the back of the car with all the windows cranked down and the radio at a low hum. Electronic music drums out of the adequate speakers, and she finally permits herself to lean against the seat.

               Peridot watches the crowded beachside from her perch in the parking lot, sipping at a can of cheap energy drink, and simply enjoying the tepid wind in her messy locks. When was the last time she enjoyed the beach? It’s a distant memory she cannot recall, and she blocks out the troublesome thought by taking another swig of liquid; swallowing a mouthful of diluted sugar water way too bland for her liking.

               “Hey, Peridot.” She’s caught mid gulp at the call of her name, and looks up to find Lapis approaching early – not her usual thirty minutes splashing out in the brine, but a mere fifteen. And she chokes.

               She had gone in clothes and all. Halter top clinging to the swell of her chest and her denim shorts dripping splotches of water against the bone dry asphalt. Fighting back an involuntary smile, she dips her head to hide the expression and reaches back for a towel. “Here,” she tosses it without looking, “dry yourself off and let’s get going. Sun’s starting to set.” The smaller woman sees the water in her damp cobalt hair, her cerulean eyes so vibrant and _alive_ , and remembers why she had first loved her.

               And why she had stopped.

                

.

 

               The evening sky is a fiery cocktail of orange, red, and yellow, but Peridot cannot tear her gaze away from the road long enough to capture its distinct beauty. It hurts her pride to ask for aid.

               “Lapis, could you take a photo for me?”

               “And why would I do that?” The scent of seawater lingers, masked by the oppressive fragrance of suffocating tobacco and warm beer.

               “Because I can’t look long enough at the sunset without swerving into the other lane. Can you please just do me this one favor?”

               “Fine, but it’ll cost you.” She sees her shifting in the corner of her eye, reaching over the back of the chaffing seat to grab at her upside phone that trembles with each bump of the unevenly paved road. The cigarette is burnt down to the filter by the time she secures her grip on the elusive object. “Shit!” The curse tumbles naturally from her mouth, and she flicks it out the window before it can burn though the pads of her fingertips.

               “Don’t you ever stop to think you may cause a fire?” Peridot asks, annoyed at her companion’s reckless behavior.

               “Well, don’t you ever stop and think about what shit comes out of that brain of yours?” She silences her with the retort, and the smaller woman’s jaw clenches. She knew her too well.

               Five minutes’ pass before Lapis returns with progress on the picture. “Got it. Happy now?”

               “Not in the slightest.”

               “And why’s that?”

               “Can’t see it.” It’s a gruff reply; one full of frustration towards the slow driver in front of her, and partial desperation in catching a glimpse of the photo memorializing one of nature’s most temporary beauties.

               “Then pull over.”

               Lapis turns to face her, and the smell of cigarette smoke washes over her.

               Peridot hates how she’s right.

 

.

 

               The turnabout is a perfect place to stop for a moment and stare at the phone’s somewhat blurry image.

               “It’s pretty.”

               “Always the romantic, aren’t you?”

               “Not in the slightest. What have I ever done that could be considered “romantic” in any way?”

               “You used to leave love letters on the doorstep.”

               “When we had first started dating, let me remind you.”

               “And create shitty mixtapes for me even though you know I have a different taste in music.”

               “Yeah, and it’s considered trash in my mind.”

               “And that one time you had surprised me on my birthday by getting me that surfboard I had always wanted since I was ten.”

               “About nine hundred dollars from my own pocket.”

               “Though I had ended up smashing it into the rocks, you still forgave me and offered to take me out for coffee in condolences of my short lived dream.”

               “But never again.”

               It’s an awkward, stressful silence that fills the interior of the car, and Peridot’s patience runs thin. She’s never cared for reminders, and pushes the thought out of her head by starting up the Ford’s sputtering engine with a twist of a pale wrist.

               The pair travel in a painful quietness past country lanes and moonlight barns.

 

.

 

               _“What the hell is this?”_

_“Why, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the greatest drama ever created in television history?”_

_“The “greatest”?” A choked out laugh is thrown her way. “I would call it the_ lamest _in my opinion.”_

_“I never asked for yours!”_

_They’re sitting on the couch in Peridot’s cramped apartment; a bowl of burnt popcorn between them, and a VHS tape airing reruns on a static-filled television from the late twentieth century._ Camp Pining Hearts _displays in bold, curving letters, and she is sure her cobalt haired companion feels as if she had just stepped into hell judging by the look on her round face._

_Peridot’s breaks out into a loose grin. “Just watch the first season with me! I promise it’ll be good.” She’s never felt this giddy before – never so excited to share a moment with another person – and finds herself wanting it to be a pleasant memory instead of what reality casts before her._

_Bad reception and a woman in deep incredulity. Perfect._

_“And why am I even hear? I never really agreed to this plan.”_

_“Because_ both _of our roommates are finally out on the same night, and you have nothing else to do.” She states matter-of-factly, a smug smirk capturing her narrow features._

_Lapis does not argue, and for the next couple of hours, sits quietly and observes the colorful acting going on before her._

_It’s two o’ clock in the morning by the time they stop reenacting quotable scenes from the show, and finally decide to head to their separate rooms for a few moments of necessary rest. Peridot watches her go, cobalt hair the last thing she sees as the door shuts behind her, and it locks in place._

_The VHS abruptly clicks off. Suspending her in a moment of white-noise filled trepidation._

_She wants to think she loves the show even more, now, but finds she admires the girl who had watched it more._

_Greater than any drama could bring._

              And it makes her feel sick.

 

.

 

               It’s late in the night by the time they pull up into a random motel’s parking lot and finally shut the car down for some much needed rest. Five hours of driving is enough to strain Peridot’s thinning nerves. She glances sideways at her limp companion, lips pursing as she wonders whether or not it is a good idea to wake her. Lapis had fallen victim to sleep only a short hour ago, but, in all of her selfishness, the shorter woman was determined to find an adequate place for her as sleeping at an angle with her head against the car window is _not_ a pleasant position.

               She rouses her with a hand on her shoulder. “Lapis, wake up. We’re here.” Her reply is sloppy and incoherent, but enough of a signal for Peridot to know she is coming back into alertness.

               Vertebrae snapping back into alignment punctuate the cricket filled night as they head towards the front office. Car keys in hand, and a sleepy cerulean eyed female lagging behind in scuffed sandals and windswept hair.

               The door pushes open with a grating creak.

 

.

 

               “How much for a room?”

               “Twenty-five dollars a night.” The man behind the desk mumbles, a scraggly beard splotched in cheese stains and crumbs rustling against his thick lips. His burly arms covered in thick layers of hair clutch at a tray of melted nachos, spilling it over a plaid lumberjack shirt and overalls, and Peridot concludes in her head that she will never eat such a thing again.

               The image is permanently ruined for her.

               “Then that’s a fairly reasonable price.” She peers into a wrinkly face of deep set black eyes and large nose.

               “How long you two stayin’?”

               “The whole night.”

               He whistles in a low, hoarse tone. “The whole night? Wow. Never had costumers like that before.” Peridot’s ears turn a bright red, and she bows her head to prevent the implying man from catching a glimpse of her humiliated, dismayed expression.

               From behind her, she hears the distinctive snort of Lapis’ laugh, and grimaces even deeper.

               She does not feel the offered key in her hand as she spins on a heel and storms out of the door.

               The cooler night’s air does little to soothe her mortification.

 

.

 

               Room 6 is such an absolute mess that Peridot’s surprised the motel hasn’t been shut down by health control yet. Chaffing white wallpaper; ugly dirt stained brown carpeting; and a bathroom that appears as if it had not been bleached in months. No wonder it was used by secret couples.

               Before they settle in, she scouts out the room’s premises with grim determination to find nothing truly amiss. Besides the offsetting unhappy clown picture above one of the two beds, everything is in fair, tolerable order. No rats, roaches, or hobos otherwise. With analyzing complete, she enlists the aid of Lapis to bring in a change of clothes for the both of them, and cannot help but scowl when she emerges - dragging in two bags of luggage in each hand and a package of animal crackers clamped tightly between her teeth.

               A sigh escapes her chapped lips, but she holds back the retort that threatens to bubble up within her throat. Growing agitated over a simple misdirection is nothing worth her stress.

               “Lapis,” she snaps the woman from her sleepy reverie, “would you care to shower first?”

               “Yes.” Her monosyllabic reply is muffled against one of the bed’s purple and green duvet covers.

               “Then you better hurry.” Peridot glimpses at the electronical clock on the nightstand. “If you fall asleep on me, I’m not hauling your sorry ass into the bathroom just to watch you get unchanged and pass out again.”

               A sly smirk dominates the tan-skinned woman’s tired features. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

               “Maybe I would.”

               It’s a challenge Lapis holds until breaking out into jagged laughter, and she rises from her place on the bed with uncertain balance. Passing Peridot by as she stares at her reflection in the static-filled television screen; desperate to get the wires connected into the correct ports.

               The sound of water fills her ears, drowning out the symphony of crickets completely, and she scowls at the emulating glass.

               She is reminded of the sexual tension that never passed.

 

.

 

               Lapis had never told her the shower was going to be cold or that there is a large growth of black mold covering one side of the partition curtain. Stepping out of the freezing water – skin mottled in horripilation – Peridot slicks up her soaked peroxide hair and dries herself with the same towel the other female had used. Catching the faint scent of cigarette smoke and brine within the thin folds.

               She doesn’t bother with brushing her teeth and instead washes her mouth out with the sink’s copper tasting tape water. At this point, she’s too tired to care; reaching for her sleepwear she had laid out prior to getting unchanged and folding up the old articles of clothing. The smaller woman makes quick work of wriggling into a loose white t-shirt and grey sweatpants that threaten to trip her up with every step she takes.

               “Why the hell did you not say anything?” Peridot speaks up as she nearly trips out of the bathroom in a dulled anger; lime green eyes flashing – searching – for the lanky woman who rests curled up on top of the bed’s thick covers with a package of animal crackers at her side. The head of an elephant disappearing past lips curled up into a shit-eating grin.

               “Because I chose not to.”

 

.

 

               _Lapis’ room is quaint. Small and perfect for a woman her size._

_The bed capped with ocean blue sheets rests against the far corner, surrounded by a nightstand to the left and a wardrobe at the foot. Simply for decoration given the closet that looms directly behind the open door; filled with an assortment of light colored tank tops, halter crops, and beach shorts._

_The bedroom with the thin carpet and whitewashed walls appears much better than Peridot’s own cluttered one._

_“How the hell did you get your room to look so-“_

_“-organized?”_

_“Yeah.” It seems almost childish the way she surveys the interior like an inspector, but living in a dark room overflowing with piles of papers gives her a new perspective. Lapis’ apartment is_ much _better than hers._

_A telephone rings in the kitchen. “Give me a second.” The taller woman in skinny jeans and a loose t-shirt turns to leave, and before disappearing down the hall, she peers back over her shoulder. “You can still look around if you’d like.”_

_The female with the peroxide hair stands in the center, alone to her own devises, and an arguing Lapis spitting obscenities at the caller on the other end._

_Plastered on the walls, she sees multiple posters of rock bands – grunge and black littered all over – and contrasting images of rolling waves and silhouetted surfboarders in shades of blue and orange._

_“She’s got some strange taste in decorations.” She refers to the thematic difference between the two, but does not linger long on the thought. Peridot wanders around the bedroom, and glances at the possessions on the nightstand. Chapstick catching her line of sight._

_It smells of strawberries, and she wonders if that’s what Lapis’ lips would taste like._

Sweet and strangely addictive.

 

.

 

               The remaining bed is absolutely revolting. Sporting a mosaic of dried blood and coffee stains, Peridot knows there is no way she is sleeping against that filth during the night. In an effort to gain any rest, she opts to share the cleaner bed with Lapis.

               It is no surprise she’s unhappy about the abrupt decision. Making it plainly stated through the use of middle-fingered body language and silent curse words directed at her intruder.

               Peridot gives the cobalt haired woman much needed space, and sidles to the edge of the queen-sized bed.

               The cheap curtains are drawn and the flickering florescent lights turned off by two thirty in the morning.

 

.

 

               Hours later, and she’s still awake. Listening through the paper thin walls on the couple having sex in the next room over and simply wondering how long they can go on. She has half a mind to pound on their door to get them to stop, but goes against the idea.

               Peridot does not want to start a shouting match at four in the damn morning.

               Grabbing at the thin covers, she rolls over onto her side and burrows further into the surprisingly soft linen; taking in the scent of past hairspray and present soap. Her lime green eyes, squinted in an attempt to see, make out the figure of the woman beside her. Barely highlighted by the neon lights outside, and an unnaturally peaceful expression etched upon her round face.

               She cannot recall the last time they had shared a bed together.

               Out of impulse – old habits – Peridot draws out a pale hand and brushes away a few strands of cobalt hair from Lapis’ sealed eyes. A frown tipping her thin lips downwards.

               “Get your shit together, Peridot.” She mutters under her breath, pulling her hand away and adding distance between them as if they were nothing more than strangers. “You ended it for a reason.”

               But then why was it so difficult for her to convince herself when all she could remember was everything she had ever cherished about her?

               Her tan skin; the way her cerulean eyes glowed with a vibrant light; the crinkle of her nose, splotched with a small layer of freckles, as she choked out a snorting laugh. The lips she used to kiss so feverishly but can now only stare at in empty regret.

               They had gone on this trip for a purpose – to mend the rift that had opened up between them – and now it is backfiring.

               She closes her eyes and buries her face into the thick pillow. Peridot had told herself that she had harbored no more feelings for the reckless girl with the crooked grin and cobalt hair, but doubts everything she had thought from the past few months.

               The shorter woman finds solace in the melodic sounds of Lapis’ steady breathing, and finally manages to sleep; one that is restless and uneasy.

 

.

 

               It’s a late start to another hot morning. The distant sounds of cars whirling down the open roads reaches her ears, and a quick glance at the blinking clock tells her it’s five minutes past nine. They had slept in for too long.

               Peridot props herself up on her elbows, face etched in sleep lines and scruffy peroxide hair sticking out it all the wrong angles. There is a pair of tan arms anchored around her waist, ones that tighten as she makes a move to disentangle herself from the colorless linen sheets with great effort. Bleary lime green eyes flicker down to place the woman in her line of sight, and she almost snickers at her.

               If only her phone had been in reach. “Lapis, hey,” she jars her in the shoulder with a hand, “it’s time to get up.” Her voice is gratingly quiet, but enough to revive her companion from the depths of slumber, and she pulls away when she finally releases her grip.

               The pair spend the next thirty minutes getting ready to hit the road. Hair combed, Lapis’ small amount of makeup reapplied, and the remaining animal crackers consumed as they step out into the tepid morning air. She hauls their luggage behind them, and places it in the trunk of the car.

               A quick check around the vehicle deduces that nothing was stolen, and they slip into their respective seats; Peridot driving despite the lack of sleep, and Lapis curled within the passenger side with sunglasses slipping down her nose and a cigarette in hand.

               The heavy scent of tobacco drowns out the earthy musk of plowed fields and cut grass.

 

.

 

               “God, how long is this going to take?”

               “Aren’t you being impatient?”

               “Lapis,” she gestures with a sweaty hand towards the slow moving traffic displayed before her, “it’s been _two hours_. Two hours!”

               “That’s what you get for sleeping in until nine. It’s late rush hour.”

               “Don’t remind me…” Peridot squints against the bright afternoon sun reflected off the sluggish vehicles, and tightens her grip on the wheel. The windows rolled down, the smaller woman hears the honking of distant drivers equally aggravated in the summer’s heat; sharp, blaring sounds that punctuate the pulsating beat of the dull synthetic music.

               Her lime green eyes scan the horizon for any road to turn off onto.

               “Hey, Lapis?” She draws the tank top clad woman from her focus on her phone.

               “Yeah?”

               “What do you think about “Wellspring”?”

               “Why do you ask?” Peridot sees her shift in the corner of her peripheral vision.

               “No reason.”

 

.

 

_“Lapis?”_

_“Yeah, Peridot?”_

_Her heart pounds in her chest, and she wipes her sweaty palms on the back of her cargo shorts. It is now or never. “I, uh, I w-was just wanting to know if you, ah,” her tongue feels as if it is gluing itself to the roof of her mouth, “w-wanted to go o-out with me… once…”_

_Cerulean eyes focus on the red staining the pale skin of her face. “What do you mean by “once”?”_

_They’re leaning against the railing of Peridot’s apartment; one that juts out of the wall of her crowded bedroom. Sipping at cans of beer, and Lapis dragging at a foul smelling cigarette. She doesn’t normally drink, but given the occasion and her confession, it’s going to take a lot of alcohol to impair her consciousness._

_Perhaps it was the drink speaking for her, now._

_“I mean, you know, just the two of us for one night. Somewhere… fun?”_

_“You mean like a date?”_

_She chokes on a mouthful of beer. “W-What? No, no, no, I didn’t mean-!”_

_A snort of a laugh interrupts her, and she grimaces at being fooled. “I’m teasing, Peridot! God, you have to know when to take a joke.”_

_Silence. “So… is that a yes?”_

_The burned out cigarette is flicked off of the balcony and onto the empty street below. “Yeah, sure. Anytime or place for you.”_

           And she means it.

 

.

 

               They pull up into a small gas station and stop; the smaller woman sliding out of the driver’s seat to grab for her wallet in a back pocket, and her companion cranking up the windows for a bit of peace. A noisy family lingers by one of the pumps, and Peridot knows they are getting on Lapis’ nerves.

               What she does not catch, however, is the quick middle fingered gesture she slips them as the smaller woman steps into the air conditioned store. Intent on getting out of the rundown area.

               Five minutes later, she strolls out fifty dollars lighter with a receipt between her fingers and a scowl on her narrow face.

               Lapis says nothing as Peridot fills up the car and revives the over-heating engine.

               Her offers of letting her take the wheel for a couple of hours fall on deaf ears.

 

.

 

               “Do we really have to eat here?”

               “Yes. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, and a break from driving will do us both good.”

               Peridot’s explanations do nothing to alleviate Lapis’ morose attitude, and she sinks further down into the red and white booth in defiance; bare legs crammed to the side in an effort to miss the greasy table’s gum encrusted underside.

               Her slender fingers wind their way into her mane of thick cobalt. “But Burger Prince? Really?”

               “Honestly,” the smaller woman peers over the edge of her dying phone, “I don’t understand why you have to be picky right now. When I asked you where you would like to go, you didn’t say anything and kept silent.” Lapis’ cerulean eyes lock with hers. “It’s your own fault.”

               “But you don’t have to say it aloud.” She picks absentmindedly at the table’s chipping surface; annoyance clear as the hot day on her round face.

               The stale sandwiches they had consumed on the road totaled up to a miserable breakfast, so a stop for a late lunch is necessary. Even if one of them is not fully thrilled with the idea. The pair make idle conversation on the wait for their meager order, and Peridot finds it awkward. Stiff and forced; something she had not fully noticed before.

               It was one of the reasons she had forced Lapis into going with her on the road trip in the first place. This underlying tension that they both seemed to dance around and forget.

              The shorter woman ponders the thought as the tray finally arrives with their order; two individually wrapped burgers nestled in between a basket of fries and a pair of strawberry shakes. One of Lapis’ favorite flavors.

              She wants to smirk at the pleased expression that crosses her tan skinned companion’s lips, but dips her head down to hide it from view.

              Apparently, it only takes fifteen dollars and seventy-three cents to make her smile.

 

.

 

               Wellspring is a small, quaint town. Perfect for a couple hours of senseless wandering under the sun’s watchful eye. Despite the heat of a muggy afternoon, Peridot oddly agrees with Lapis’ suggestion of visiting the nearby plaza and allows her to lead the way; trailing behind her on paved, cobblestone sidewalks and simply observing the lively scene with a detached air of interest.

               There is a multitude of colored stalls set up within the amphitheater-like marketplace, vendors hawking out useless items ranging from basic knickknacks to full hand-sewn blankets, and Lapis breaks away to look at them all. Out of place in her beach shorts and thick cobalt hair like a confused young adult at a local country fair for children.

               Peridot counts the minutes that slip away and the meaningless trinkets piling up in her tattered jean pockets. Noticing, in horrific detail, how they seem to get more and more tackier with each one presented to her.

               “Is this some kind of sick joke?” She inquires, lime green eyes wide in terror as the taller woman displays a plastic well in the form of a cheap keychain. Her shit eating grin is one of cruel causality.

               “More like a competition I just started. Worst tacky souvenir wins, but judging how you’ve done nothing but stand here,” one of her slender hands grips the front of Peridot’s _Beach City High_ t-shirt collar, “it looks like you’re going to lose.”

               She hates competition, always has, and her incredulous expression is replaced by a snarky laugh. “You really think I – a mature adult – am going to play your stupid game?” Lapis’ eyes are heavy on her in offense. “Then you must forget who I am, Lapis. You know I don’t prefer such tasteless bantering.”

               “Suit yourself.” Her breath smells of masked tobacco and sweet strawberries as she relinquishes her grip on her collar. “You’re missing out.”

               She desperately wishes she had, as not a minute later, she is storming through the closing plaza in search of a much gaudier, _shoddier_ , object then Lapis had bestowed her with earlier that day.

               Another twenty dollars slips from her pocket, and she is lugging back a moderately sized statue of a forgotten actor’s bust moments later; dead stone eyes gazing back into her own and chiseled jaw held at an odd angle. Pressing it into Lapis’ hands, she grins triumphantly.

               “Who the hell is this supposed to be?”

               “I have no idea.” She watches the taller female inspect it with a meticulous gaze.

               “Well, congratulations.” Her voice comes out soft; defeated. “Looks like you won the “most-tackiest-souvenir” competition.”

               “I know.”

               “How’s it feel to know you wasted about twenty dollars on an imitated face of a dead actor you know you aren’t going to keep?” Peridot’s thin smirk immediately perishes.

               She’s silent as she stalks off towards the direction of the Ford, footsteps hurried and her face red in embarrassment. A steady string of curse words slipping out of her mouth at the stupid, impulsive purchase.

               They leave the worthless bust on the side of the road before pulling onto the highway; sun setting behind them, and Wellspring quickly disappearing in the distance.  

               At least the traffic is gone.  

 

.

 

               “Peridot,” she glances at the woman beckoning her, “don’t you think it’s starting to get a bit late?”

               “What are you implying?” The shorter woman peers at the clock set within the dashboard and witnesses in blinking green light the numbers seven forty-eight. In the rearview mirror, the sun has almost set below the horizon; pitching forward black silhouettes of far-off mountain ranges and shapeless forms.

               Lapis’ explanation is logical enough. “You’re not driving so late at night again. You barely even slept, so I think it’s best that we pull over before it really starts to get dark out.” A cloud of cigarette smoke is blown out of the open window. “You call _me_ an awful driver, but you should see yourself when the moon comes out. You’re terrible.”

               Her pale fingers turn white on the steering wheel. “Then where do you suggest we go, smartass? If you haven’t noticed,” lime green eyes dart around the flat, open landscape, “we’re in the middle of nowhere! There hasn’t been a turn off for a motel in the last fifty miles.”

               A mane of cobalt enters her field of vision, startling her into abrupt silence as a tan arm is thrown out, pointing to a sign coming up on the side of the road. _Lakeview Campgrounds – 2 Mi._ Her companion leans in the back of her seat with a devilish smirk.

               “Then how about some old-fashioned camping?”

               Peridot’s mind is decided the moment Lapis recklessly flicks her cigarette out of the rolled down window.

 

.

 

               _It is awkward, uncomfortable, and tastes far more like cigarette smoke than she would have preferred.  But there is the slightest trace of strawberries._

_A literal bliss._

_Spur of the moment, it hadn’t been sweet and slow; initiated during an especially open moment. Instead, it is sloppy and uneven during the worst scene of the movie. The moment the main character dies._

_It’s fortunate they sit in the back of the theater where only the couples remain. Popcorn forgotten and over sugared soda left to go flat._

_Five seconds pass before they split, and Peridot sees Lapis’ cerulean eyes wide in disbelief. A mix of shock and underlying desire hidden beneath the dark depths._

_“How’s that?”_

_“Amazing.”_

_“Your first time, I take it?”_

_“Yeah.” She admits sheepishly. “You’re my first…”_

And my last.

 

.

 

               It’s a quiet area nestled within a smooth stretch of land. Bearing thick scraggly trees and a scummy lake in the direct center of the grounds; water lilies float along an unclear surface, and a troop of insects make the tepid water their home.

               They pull into the furthest lot and park in number 19 reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Aberdeen. Stepping out, the late night scent of peonies and wildflower greets her, a large contrast to the nauseating smell of pollution and gasoline she is so used to.

               Peridot takes no time in moving possessions to the trunk and retrieving her typical sleepwear, but finds, to her distress, the washroom is a far way off from their campsite.

               The march is aggravating.

 

.

 

               A small fire crackles in the stone pit by the time she returns, and she grins. Damp peroxide hair slipping into her eyes, and baggy sweatpants trailing across the dirt as she sits beside Lapis; wooden bench splintery under her pale hands.

               The smaller woman’s presented with a bag of potato chips, something she accepts with gusto. She does not notice how hungry she is until the first crunchy morsel slips past her lips, and she’s scarfing down the bag like a starved animal - an odd late “dinner” for the both of them.

               “Guess you were hungry, huh, Peridot?” She hears the smirk in her soft voice.

               “Says you. That’s your second one, isn’t it?” Peridot refers to the crumpled trash in one of Lapis’ long hands and she returns her companion’s weak incredulous stare. Chuckling at the faint red that seeps into the skin of her cheeks.

               “At least _I_ remember to eat every now and then. You’re one for going hours without break.”

               “Hmm,” her thin lips twitch into a faltering grin, “looks like you win.”

               “I know.” Lapis’ expression is smug in the flickering firelight.

               “I hate you.”

               “…love you too…”

               It’s awkward – her response almost _habitual_ – and Peridot abruptly stands and heads for the car in discomfort.

               She leaves Lapis by the fireside; mind reeling, and chest tightening in muted pain.

               The strangled sob that wracks her throat goes by unnoticed.

 

.

 

               They sleep in the car that night; back seats folded down to create a surface adequate to lie on, and old tattered jackets in use as makeshift blankets. The dark tinted windows are blotched out by pinned up towels, just enough to create a temporary sense of privacy.

               Peridot stays awake for the first couple of hours, her tired lime green eyes fixated on the cloth top of the interior, and her mind buzzing in anxiety. She tries not to focus on the pair of arms slung tightly around her waist. It’s cool enough outside for her exhausted companion to seek out another source of warmth, but she does not push her away. Instead, she permits Lapis the unconscious action of burying her face into her narrow chest and sighs.

               The faint scent of smoke, tobacco, and stale beer washes over her. Comforting in its own strange yet familiar way.

               In her stiff position, it takes a few more minutes of listening to crickets in the distance before she finally allows sleep to consume her.

               She doesn’t feel the hand that brushes sharp strands of peroxide hair from her face.

 

.

 

               “Dammit!” Lapis’ curse trickles out like a flowing waterfall. Natural and soft in all the right places. “Think I slept wrong last night.”

               Peridot glances over a blazer covered shoulder to see her expertly snapping vertebrae back into place with a quick twist of her neck. The sharp pop sickens her. “I’m surprised you even slept the last two nights at all.” She is referring to her sporadic bouts of insomnia; family-born and passed down between parent to child.

               The smaller woman is rewarded with a faint smirk. “I’m surprised you keep staying up so late. You used to settle down so early at night, why change now?”

               “Call it breaking a habit.” Peridot mutters, slipping a saltine cracker in between her teeth and chewing it languidly as she searches for some kind of amusement in Lapis’ dark cerulean eyes.

               She finds none.

               “I’m going to take a quick shower.” Hands rummage through the trunk of the car for their crammed luggage. “Got a dollar in quarters on you?”

               Peridot runs a shaky hand through her messy locks and pulls out the wallet from the back of her jeans; the same pair as the one she wore yesterday. “You’re taking every cent I have.” It’s a grumbled reply as the change is plucked from her fingers and stored inside Lapis’ palm.

               No “thank you” is exchanged, and she turns on her heel. Trekking off towards the distant washroom in a mess of cobalt hair and t-shirt many sizes too large. Peridot leans against the side of the car and permits a heavy sigh to escape her thin lips as she watches her go.

               Poking out of the sky rests the early morning sun; one blurry edge hovering just above the scraggly treetops.

               It’s only seven thirty-six.

 

.

 

_Morning sunlight slips in between the partially drawn curtains, and Peridot buries her face further into the soft cotton covers to avoid it; sleepy and mildly aware of the pair of arms wrapped around her waist._

_A slender index finger presses against her cheek. “Hey, Peridot.” The prodding is more consistent. “Peri. Get up.”_

_“Mm, I’m trying to sleep…”_

_“It’s nine o’ clock, dumbass. Time for you to leave.”_

_“What do you mean?” Her head spins as she tries to prop herself up on her elbows; the hangover equivalent to the feeling of being hit by a semi-truck. “I don’t have a job.”_

_“But this is my apartment.” She mumbles quietly, voice dripping like honey as the cobalt haired woman slips out from underneath the sheets and stands. Bare in the shadowy sunlight. “And it’s best you leave within the next twenty minutes.”_

_Peridot stares at her in silence. “Kicking me out already, huh?” A loose smirk adorns her thin lips; gaze lewd. “Even after everything?”_

_“Yeah.” She returns her coy smirk. “Even after everything.”_

_Grudgingly, she removes herself from the warmth of Lapis’ bed and proceeds to gather her discarded clothes. Tugging a pair of jeans up to her hips, and wriggling into a dark grey t-shirt plastered with the words_ Beach City High _._

_Lips connect with the skin of her cheekbone. “I’ll see you later.”_

_“Tonight, perhaps?” She flirts slyly, and is rewarded with a sharp snort of laughter._

_“You ask for too much, but one more kiss wouldn’t hurt.”_

_It’s quick and short-lived._

_Peridot immediately removes herself from the room, chuckling as she leaves._

            It is always firsts with Lapis.

 

.

 

               When Lapis returns, smelling of wildflower and mandarin, Peridot holds a beer in her hand – clutching it by the tip of her fingers – and tosses the second one to her wet haired companion.

               “The designated driver shouldn’t be drinking and driving so early in the morning. It’s scandalous.” She snorts as she catches the offer with gratitude, joining her in the back seat with the windows rolled down and the electronic music barely above a low hum. Peridot shifts over to make room.

               “Maybe for you, but I can handle one or two consecutive drinks.”

               “Whatever you say, Peridot.” Lapis’ fingers deftly snap open the lid. “Whatever you say.”

              

.

 

               The highway is uneven and bumpy, and each one they hit jars her nerves just a little more. The drive is long and silent, filled with pounding music and a dying phone Lapis tosses into the back seat in annoyance.

               She does not say anything as her companion opens the last energy knockoff drink and lights another brown filtered cigarette. Her face contorting into one of disgust as she takes an extensive drag.

               “How’s it taste with that cancer in your lungs?”

               “Awful.” Her tongue darts out.

               “Then why are you smoking right now?”

               “Stress.” And she leaves it at that.

 

.

 

               The sun is a ball of orange and red fire by the time they pull into a random motel’s parking lot situated miles away from the highway; in the country, and practically deserted.

               Thirty dollars and change is relinquished over the counter between stiff negotiations and sharp nods, and Peridot strolls out with the room key in hand. Back into the cooling night’s air under a full moon.

               The milky orb casts shadows against the walls as the pair wander towards their place of temporary stay. The woman with the peroxide hair leading the way, and Lapis lagging slow and steadily behind. It’s nicer than the last motel, but somewhat decrepit.

               Reddish carpet bearing countless layers of stains and the tiled bathroom a little cleaner – more furnished. It bears an overall dirty appearance, but it is good enough for Peridot in the abrupt conditions. Tired, hungry, and sick of being blinded by the bright beams of passing cars, sleep is the only thing on her mind.

               Lapis, however, beats her to the idea, and slumps onto one of the available beds in exhaustion; mane of cobalt splayed about her head like a jagged halo, and her tan skin pale in the room’s only functioning lamp light.

               Peridot carries enough strength to brush her teeth and change, leaving the rest to be completed in the early morning. Exhausted, she slips into bed with Lapis – completely unaware of the other woman, but too burned out to worry.

               She falls asleep against her side within minutes.

 

.

 

               The click of the door unlocking rouses her from slumber, and she jerks awake; a cocktail of emotions ravaging her system, and bleary eyes scanning for the intruder until she spots a familiar figure slipping out into the tepid summer air. The moonlight catching on a mane of cobalt.

               _Lapis._

               She is tired, but determined to seek the reason for her companion’s sudden departure. Propping herself up onto her elbows, she swings her legs over the edge of the bed and stands; bare feet connecting against the cool floor that sends shivers up her spine. Off-balanced, the smaller woman makes her way towards the door and pushes it open with one hand. The other free appendage rubs at sleep encrusted eyes.

               Peridot spots Lapis sitting at the edge of the pool out front; green hued water bacteria infested and most certainly a breeding ground for mosquitoes. It’s absolutely revolting.

               “Can’t sleep?” She tries gently, catching glimpses of the scummy liquid in disgust, and desperately begging in her head to a god she doesn’t believe in that nothing with gills emerges.

               “Yeah.” There’s a weariness to her voice, something she notices had not been there before. Dark bruises pool under her eyes, and Peridot wonders how much sleep she actually acquired in the past couple of days.

               It is quite a possibility she had been lied to – _again._

               “What’s going on in that head of yours, Lapis?”

               “I don’t know.” Her reflection casts an eerie green tinge to her features; amplified by the pool’s harsh fluorescent light. “I honestly don’t know, Peri.”

               The nickname that escapes her lips sends a knife plunging straight through Peridot’s heart. Lapis had refused to use that name since the breakup, rarely in her weakest moments, and she _hates_ how she knows that about her. Even more so to acknowledge the suffering underlying her mischievous, strong façade. “Do you want to talk about it?”

               “No,” she whispers, knees drawing up to her chest; expression motionless and blank. Just like a mirror, it’s only the shallow truth she displays. And she is doing it right now.

               Peridot’s patience lasts less than Lapis’ will. “Fine, have it your way.” She straightens out from her crouched position, hands threading their way through her hair in defeat, and a masked concern in her eyes as she glances down at her stoic companion. “Stay out here all night if you want, but I’m going back inside.”

               She does not look back as she turns to leave.

 

.

 

               _The nearby mall is far too crowded for her liking, but serves as the only proper choice. Hands crammed into the pockets of her shorts, Peridot plays with her wallet and counts the number of people with dyed hair that she passes. A mere thirteen, and none of them sporting the cobalt shade of blue she is so familiar with._

_Good._

_Her feet ache by the time she reaches the jeweler’s, and she’s glad to be out of the major shopping center. The crowds of jostling people with screaming children having aggravated her nerves to no end._

_“Can I help you, Ma’am?” She jerks at the voice, and glances at the woman behind the glass counter that displays the sets of jewelry. Analyzing her natural blonde hair and the formal clothes she wears for show. Peridot immediately dislikes the look she gives her._

_“Yeah, ah, in fact you can,” she pauses to lean over the display case, “_ Rashida. _God, your name’s damn ugly.”_

_The woman’s upper lip twitches. “I’m not allowed to insult customers directly.”_

_“Good, good, because I’m actually looking for a ring.” Peridot surveys the case with lime green eyes, ignoring the nasty stare she’s given in the reflection._

_“What type of ring?”_

_She lifts her gaze, peroxide strands falling into narrowed eyes. “Engagement.” A smirk claims her features; excitement and anxiety incarnate._

_“Then we have a few select choices we think you’ll find rather pleasing.”_

_One hundred and ninety so dollars slips from her hands, and she is left clutching a velvet inlaid box inside the pocket of her coat._

It will all be worth it in the end.

 

.

 

               Lapis slinks in hours later; the inky black sky taking on a faint pallid hue as she steps into the well-used room. Eyes red and sleep deprivation tugging at the skin beneath unfocused cerulean. She slips into the same bed and curls under the cotton sheets. Leaving a comfortable distance between herself and Peridot out of cruel spite and silent respect.

               Her sleep is restless and troubled.

 

.

 

               They do not speak to each other the next morning and simply exchange wordless glances as they prepare for a premature departure.

               Peridot peers at her from within the scrubbed bathroom mirror, catching the plane of skin belonging to Lapis’ back in its reflection. Her gaze locks on the teardrop shaped tattoo etched between her curved shoulder blades.

               She remembers when she had gotten it – late one drunken night after a get together at a local bar – and how bright the colors had been. A beautiful mix of azure and sapphire that now seems dull and faded in the artificial light.

               Lapis catches her stare as she is slipping on a dark blue lacy bra, and Peridot forgets how long she had been staring.

               The morning starts off uncomfortable.

 

.

 

               The highway presents another around of miserable traffic, and Peridot spits out obscenities at the slow moving cars in front of her.

               Cigarette smoke lingers in the interior despite all four windows cranked down, and, if she focuses long enough, she can detect the faint scent of mint gum.

               In the warm sunlight, synthetic music is the only option keeping her sane as she inches slowly down the wide road; blasting heavy bass notes and screaming at equally angry drivers.

               Lapis is quiet the whole way.

 

.

 

               “I found the ring when I was moving out.” She confesses randomly, pausing to take a sip of a beer clutched in her slender hand. They sit atop the Ford Focus’ dented roof; drinking the last of the stale alcohol and basking under the thick night sky in an abandoned campground. The only patrons on a Wednesday evening. “You were going to propose on the day we broke up, weren’t you?”

               Peridot does not speak, and keeps the aluminum can pressed close to her lips. Afraid that, if she tries, her voice will come out feeble and airy: _weak_. Lapis’ tolerance for silence is thinner than she is comfortable with, and she vehemently slides off the roof – tossing her can into a nearby thicket and sidling into the back seat of the car to lit up a foul smelling cigarette.

               The smaller woman stays frozen for what feels like eternity, simply allowing the crushing weight of her words to plunge her into a depth of some forgotten reality, and she realizes how _easy_ it had been to deny the tension between them. To pretend it does not exist and that they are still friendly with each other. Her heart seizes painfully in her chest, and Peridot almost let’s escape a strangled sob.

               But dignity forces her back into some strange form of apathetic calmness, and she stares heatedly at the ground in sullen defeat.

               The night is spent staring at a sickeningly white moon.

 

.

 

               _“Lapis! What the_ hell _did you think you were doing?”_

_“I don’t know, alright? I don’t know!”_

_“Then why did you do it, huh? Why did you have to go and throw everything away?”_

_“Peridot, it was_ one _fucking time, I swear!”_

 _“You swear? How do I know you aren’t telling a lie right now? You always seemed to be pretty good at those judging how you’ve managed to keep_ this _a secret until now.” She refers to the mottled collection of hickeys on her throat; ones that do not belong to Peridot._

_Lapis may have thought she wouldn’t find them, but she couldn’t have foretold that she would have walked in on her changing. Down to nothing but her undergarments, they were easy to spot._

_Her jaw sets hard. “How long have you been doing this behind my back, Lapis?”_

_“Peridot, I don’t-“_

_“How long, Lapis?” She asks more sternly – aggressively -  and she sees how she physically flinches._

_The answer is one she does not want to hear. “A couple of months.”_

_And it’s enough. “Get out.” The pain on the cobalt haired woman’s face almost hurts. Almost._

_“What? P-Peridot, please, you can’t-“_

_“I said_ get out _.”_

_“Peridot-“_

_“Get the_ fuck _out of my apartment. Get your stuff together, and leave!” She is screaming, unshed tears threatening to break._

_Lapis fixes her a venomous glare, but remains dangerously quiet._

She never returns again.

 

.

 

               They eat breakfast at a shoddy diner a few miles down the road from the campgrounds. Two plates of pancakes and a hot pitcher of black coffee. Peridot pays for both, and is rewarded no appreciation.

               The sun lurks high in the sky.

 

.

 

               Gas station visits leave the lime eyed woman in a foul mood and Lapis recklessly smoking by the fuel pumps.

               Fortunate nothing ignites, and the pot-mark faced worker does not catch her.

 

.

 

               “Do you even remember why you forced me into this shitty trip?”

               “Somewhat. Why do you ask?”

               “Because I just want it all to end.”

               A pause. “Me too.”

 

.

 

               The bed they share is dangerously small; a mess of linen sheets and stained pillows the only available object to sleep on in the cramped motel room. The pair leave enough space out of frustration towards the other, and Peridot feels something is missing.

               Lapis’ breathing poignantly off-key and her own heartbeat hammers away in her narrow chest.

               There is a buried animosity not there before.

 

.

 

               _The wedding is a joyous occasion to all but her. Seeing all the happy couples – her own distant, unknown cousin gowned in a luxurious white dress with a strapping groom at her side – makes her sick, and she unconsciously scowls. She sits at one of the unoccupied tables under the well-furnished pavilion, sipping at a dark glass of wine as her angry lime green eyes scan the sea of cheerful faces._

_Feeling like the only unhappy individual there._

_She_ hates _how the couple dancing in the center could have been her and Lapis; a disgusting reminder of what they almost had. The classical music is tasteless, and if it had been her own, she would have gone with electronic. Screw tradition._

_Her grandmother, an aging woman with greying hair and a noticeable limp, elbows her sharply in the ribs. “Hey, ah, where’s your friend?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“You know,” her wrinkles quiver as she speaks, “that blue haired one? Lazarus or something?”_

_“Lapis.” Peridot corrects, voice trembling and the glass in her hand shaking with her. Her throat feels narrow and constricted, and another sip of wine does nothing to alleviate the tension._

_“Yeah, her. How is she doing?”_

_The smaller woman wants to puke. “Fine, I suppose. Why do you ask?”_

_Wizened eyes meet hers. “It’s just that she isn’t here. Didn’t you say you two were dating?” Peridot does not have the heart to correct her, and averts her gaze._

_The pain is too much. “Will you, ah, excuse me for one moment? I have a call I just remembered I have to take.”_

_She leaves without saying her farewells and breaks down in the middle of the parking lot. White button-up dress shirt and black vest speckled with long overdue tears. Peridot does not care if her relatives see her or that her dark slacks are becoming filthy. The only thing she dwells on is the sharp pain stabbing into her chest with each shuddering breath._

Peridot hates reminders.

 

.

 

               She awakes to the sound of shattering glass and a harsh bathroom light flickering in its socket. Rousing herself out of partial alarm, the short woman stumbles out of the sheet cocoon and peers in, tired eyes gazing at a splintered mirror and the female in the jagged reflection. Everything inside of her turns cold.

               “Lapis?” The word comes out rough. “What the hell are you doing?”

               Her given reply tumbles out languidly; angry. “I just can’t do this anymore.” Transparent shards litter the tiles around her bare feet, and Peridot sees the smudges of blood across the floor. Wet and opaque in the fluorescent illumination. Slender hands clutch at a bouquet of glass fragments; piercing an open palm and forcing small rivulets of crimson down a pair of trembling arms where it congeals on the sharp point of an elbow, and drips between the tiles.

               “Lapis,” she catches the haunting look in her vacant cerulean eyes, “what happened?”

               “This goddamned trip is what happened! I mean,” cut fingers slide into messy cobalt hair, “I thought that, just maybe _, maybe,_ everything would go back too normal and we wouldn’t have any problems anymore! That we could finally look at each other at least _once_ without thinking everything we ever had had been a huge fucking mistake!”

               “That’s the _only_ reason I dragged you on this trip, Lapis!” It’s Peridot’s turn to shout. “To try and mend that distrust between us, but nothing ever worked. For a moment, I-I thought we were getting better, but now-“ A glint of defeat wells up in her eyes “- it seems nothing can fix what we created.”

               “Then perhaps it should stay that way.”

               Her glass-bitten angel is cruel.

 

.

               _She doesn’t mean. She can’t_ possibly _mean it._

 

.

 

               “God, Lapis!” What do I have to do to make you understand that I’m still horrifically in love with you?” The world around them grows silent as soon as the words slip past her thin lips, and she realizes in dread the weight of her abrupt confession.

               The cold steely glint in Lapis’ eyes is never more apparent. “Is this what you’ve been upset about this whole damn time?” She hisses, the shards sliding deeper into the fist she forms. “The fact you didn’t want to come clean and just admit it?”

               Peridot’s jaw clenches. “Yeah.” The monosyllabic reply garners no kindness.

               “The hell did you think you were doing?” Bloody hands grab at the front of her white t-shirt and stain the colorless fabric ruby red. “Ignoring me and treating me like shit these past few days just because you are a goddamn wuss!”

               “And what about you?” She screams, prying slit fingers loose and staring her companion straight in the eye. Blood coursing hot. “You didn’t make it any easier with you dropping hints and messing with me like that! How do you think I feel, huh? You,” the smaller woman shoves her away forcefully, “have no idea what I’m going through!”

               The shocked, angry expression on Lapis’ face contorts into an ugly sneer. “The fuck you know what you’re talking about. You weren’t in an abusive relationship for two years; you didn’t have to go to a fucking physiatrist’s every other week for depression and paranoia. You didn’t even have to put up with the guilt of wrecking our goddam relationship in the first place!” Her eyes narrow into dangerous slits. “And you have the _nerve_ to think your life has been so much more difficult? Well, sorry to break it to you Miss-I-Got-Kicked-Out-Of-College-For-Smuggling-Weed-And-My-Mother’s-A-Fucking-Whore, but I know you haven’t come close to the definition of a fucked up life.”

               Peridot has enough of her jeering. Temper flaring, she grabs for the cobalt haired woman and pushes her into the main room with a surprising strength; chest heaving in rage as she throws her up against the nearest wall and pins bloodied hands above her head.

               Her lips screw down into a snarl. “Don’t you _dare_ think about insulting me, Lapis! I’m sick of your shit and your fucking excuses. If you’ve had such a “fucked up life”, why the hell did you wait until the last moment to fix it?”

               “Because I’m a coward.” There is animosity flickering in her dark orbs. “I’ve lived a lie for too long, but now it’s about time I finally woke up.” Peridot’s grip slips, and the palm of a glass embedded hand connects with the side of her face. She reels backwards, Lapis’ weight dropping her onto the dirty floor.

               The taller woman’s sharp knees dig painfully into her sides. “You think I asked for any of this to happen? You think I wanted this?” Practically screaming in her face, unshed tears well up behind cerulean eyes.

               And Peridot feels something break inside of her. Impulsively, she lowers her voice.

               “Then why did you lie? Why did you tell me you were fine when you weren’t? Lapis,” she physically flinches at the sound of her name, “you’re a stubborn asshole who can’t admit the truth, but I think I’m no better.”

               “Don’t! You can’t possibly imagine what’s happened between then and now.”

               “But I can!” She interrupts, unconcerned whether or not her impatience leads to another slap across the face. “You’re never honest because you don’t know how to tell the truth. You cheated behind my back because you were afraid of the pain she would cause if you left. You put up with my lame ass for this whole time and kept quiet out of fear you would only be hurt again. You may have caused the tear in our relationship,” she finally frees a hand to grab at the one ensnaring her other wrist, “but I’m the one who understands too late. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

               A silence reigns thick and suffocating until Lapis unhinges her jaw; voice shaky and frail. “Looks like your stupid road trip worked after all.”

               “I guess it did.” The relief washes over her like a wave, and the adrenaline pumping through her body drains. It leaves a stinging ache where Lapis’ hand had connected, and she subconsciously rubs at the red mark; her companion’s hold over her nonexistent. Between them, an awkwardness remains – partially from her sudden confession, and the rest on the matter of their physical confrontation.

               At least their months of dancing around the fragile topic resolves with a weary sigh.

               “Hey, Peri?”

               “Yeah?”

               She peers into a face framed by cobalt and sees the wounded expression.

               “This kind of hurts.” Lapis refers to her sliced hand; trickling blood and staining the filthy carpet a gory red.

               Peridot frowns. “I’ll get my phone.”

               The nearest hospital is thirty minutes away.

 

.

 

               _Thanks for understanding. I really appreciate it._

 

.

 

               They cross through intersections and under street lights in the sputtering Ford. Underlying tensions free, and a couple of real smiles shed every few minutes. A red light stops them in their tracks,

               “I’m sorry.” It’s so quiet, Peridot almost misses the whispered words.

               “Yeah,” she glances at her – lime green eyes scanning a beautiful moonlit face – and she grins.

               The words dye softly on her bloodied lips.

 

.

 

_Me too._

 

.

 

               The artificial lights are too bright – too _painful_ – and she swears she hears sirens. Blaring sirens like vivacious music, and something wet pressing against her cheek.

               Darkness engulfs her.

 

.

 

               Respirators beep loudly in the background.

               _One. Two. Three._

_One. Two. Three._

_One. Two. Thr—_

Silence.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

               It’s a cold day, chillingly so, and she strolls along the grass strewn ground. Thick coat buttoned up to her throat, and torn jeans trailing at her bare ankles in tatters of loose fabric. The stretch of sky above is clouded by a thick cover of mist; one that blots out the sun and brings with it a freezing precipitation.

               It greets a gloomy atmosphere amongst the implanted headstones.

               A bouquet of heliotropes and forget-me-not is clutched tightly to her chest, and she stops in front of one of the graves. Black slipping through a deteriorating mask of cobalt that obscures her eyes from view.

               She doesn’t take too long to gaze at the marbled headstone – at the carved words that cause pain – and throws the bunch of flowers onto the grave in anger.

               “I hope you’re fucking happy.” Lapis shoves her hands into her pockets and stalks off; slipping a cigarette in between her teeth, and kicking at the stones that threaten to trip her up.

               She hates reminders, always has.

               The only thing it leaves her with is the jagged ache where a bent piece of twisted metal once lovingly rested. In the cold weather, she feels it now more than ever.

               Lapis says nothing to the visitors that give her weird stares.

               There is not an inch of caring left in a heart full of sand paper and rough edges.

 

.

 

               _I can’t forgive you._

 

.

 

               _I’m sorry._

 

.

 

               _Lapis’ new address is difficult to find; wedged behind a set of complexes and surrounded by sandy parks. It’s a maze she eventually navigates successfully through, and on the doorstep, she freezes in fear._

_Her blood courses hot, heart pounding in her ears. It drowns out the distant sound of the ocean, but she knows she cannot stand there forever listening to the waves; pretending the situation is nonexistent. Peridot’s pale hand, sweaty and trembling, raps against the door, and she tightens the grip around her car keys in apprehension._

_Before her, the door swings open to reveal a familiar mane of cobalt. She can’t help the faint smile that dominates her face. “L-Lapis! Hey, uh,” she regards her loose tank top and beach shorts, “ready to go?”_

_There is almost an air of indifference about her. “Yeah. Just let me get my luggage and lock up. It won’t take too long.” The door is closed on her, and Peridot’s left in an awkward silence. She counts how many seagulls pass overhead to fill the time._

_“God, I can’t believe this is actually happening.” She mumbles under her breath, eyes flashing as she tracks the winged creature’s graceful movements. “What would I give just to be able to fly away.”_

_“What was that?”_

_Lapis’ sudden arrival startles her. “Nothing, I just, ah, said what I would give to be able to have a bird’s eye. You know, bird’s eye view.” She earns a quiet laugh, the first she had heard in months._

_“Right, of course you did. Now,” she hauls at her luggage case and fumbles for the house keys in a back pocket, “where did you say we were going?”_

_“South and back, just along the coast. It shouldn’t take more than a week or so.”_

_“And that’s the car we’re taking?” She gestures to the Ford Focus in front of the street, incredulity in her cerulean eyes._

_Embarrassment overcomes the awkwardness Peridot feels conversing with Lapis. “Yeah, that’s the only car I could really afford rent on…”_

_“Might as well get comfortable, then.” There’s a hint of distaste in her voice, but not enough to be classified as revulsion, and she starts to drag her luggage towards the trunk of the car; the smaller woman in close pursuit._

_Moments later, they’re sliding into their specified seats; Lapis as the passenger, and Peridot driving. Her hands grow white on the wheel._

_“Are you sure you want to do this?”_

_“Why wouldn’t I?”_

_“Well, I thought maybe just-“_

_“Oh, shut up and start driving will you? We won’t get anywhere if you keep making up bullshit excuses.”_

_Peridot lets the loose grin grow even wider and starts the engine with a flick of her wrist. The steady pulse of synthetic music blasts through the speakers followed along by the sputtering of the car._

_With the windows open, she turns the vehicle around and inches down the road. Picking up speed until hitting the open highway. Spread out before them lies the endless opportunities for their unspecified location, and Peridot takes it a step at a time._

_Simply enjoying the wind in her peroxide strands and the company of the woman in the seat next to her. The scent of tobacco smoke and sea water hits her crooked nose, and she smirks._

_They disappear down an endless road._

**Author's Note:**

> So, the beast of a story that I didn't intend to actually write much for finally comes crawling off my computer. I present to my fellow readers the road trip AU that's already been done so many other times before. Though it was long and tedious, I had a bit of fun writing this, and I hope you guys will enjoy this monster as well. 
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> First off, I'd like to state that everything written is intentional. The sudden cutoffs in sections; the repetition that comes with a lengthy road trip; the boredom that starts to set in after a couple of days. Even the conversations that are occasionally odd and sometimes strangely worded. Second, the descriptions deteriorate for a reason. Purposefully, I wanted things to start with energy and life, but as it progresses, work down to a more simplified, narrow version meant to show the connection between the character's own relationship - the fact they feel the underlying animosity that is brought to light later on in the story. Third, the ending that involves death; showing how life is short and can be taken for granted, and that it can end at any moment. The reason why it is important you enjoy it to the fullest. 
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> Thanks for sticking through this long description - and an even longer story - and I hope you enjoyed this odd twist. Too much work got put into this to let it sit in my files forever.


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